


Terminal Velocity

by duointherain



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-04-28 07:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14444214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duointherain/pseuds/duointherain
Summary: Duo comes looking for Heero after a long absence.. there is make-up sex. Well, then they have the whole effort of learning to live together like normal people. Mistakes will happen.





	1. Chapter 1

Terminal Velocity  
By Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. I also reference a song sung by Julia Michaels, Heaven. I don’t own that either, but it’s a fun song. 

Warnings: I think this will have lemon.

 

Notes: Heero POV

 

Heero hadn’t thought of the song in months. The moment he’d heard it, he’d thought of Duo. Seeing Duo, it brought those lyrics right back. 

Love’s my religion, but he was my faith. Falling for him was like falling for grace... he was so many sins. 

Standing there in the quad outside of the mathematics department, Heero held his case with both hands on the handle and stared. 

Duo sat on a stone wall. The sun painted gold highlights in his forest dark hair like lightning caught in a moment. Those violet eyes stared right at Heero without the slightest hint of reserve. At twenty-five, he was no less twilight decorum than he’d been at fifteen, but he was taller, more compact, and comfortable with himself. 

While Heero wore tweed, hair neatly trimmed, a multipurpose stylus in his pocket, next to the same grey tie that he wore on Tuesdays, Duo wore faded jeans, a black tee-shirt, and a bit of black eyeliner that was impossible not to understand as an invitation to sexual attraction. 

Heero’s lip twitched and he was very glad to be holding his case in front of his hips. 

When Duo stood, that thick braid slipped from his shoulder, and Heero imagined how much it much it would weigh, the warmth that would be in it from being so close to Duo. In his mind, his fingers touched Duo’s neck, and there wasn’t enough math to explain the electric that would go between them.

Their romance had come to an abrupt ended nearly eight years before. It was an argument that Heero had revisited the argument a half a million times in the years since. Eight years, 2920 days, and about 9.5 times an hour, give or take. It wasn’t like the argument could be resolved. He had intended then and still intended to devote himself to science and peace, in particular mathematics. Duo had refused to give up street racing, which was illegal and dangerous. 

Lips parted, tingles went over Heero’s scalp, down his spine. Duo grinned, not unlike a great violet and midnight panther that already knew it had its prey. 

Duo’s hips seemed slender, tight, and powerful with the slightest sway as he walked towards Heero. For a moment, Heero’s attention was only on those hips, then on the swell in the center that suggested Duo was very happy to see him, but only after another moment, did he connect that Duo Maxwell was walking directly towards him.

His head jerked up and he looked quickly to either side, like he was looking for an escape path. 

The scent of Duo’s lavender shampoo hit him like a way back machine and he looked back right at Duo who was just slightly taller than he was now, but in that moment he was no more than the boy who didn’t run after him when Duo had walked out the door. 

Clean shaven, with a strong face and just a touch rough to his skin that promised a real five o’clock shadow, Duo smiled. Teeth white and straight, lips with the same curves that Heero could remember kissing with such intensity, and Heero’s ears nearly popped when Duo finally said, “Hey.” 

Heero would never be at risk of a five o’clock shadow. His skin was richer than Duo’s smoother, less pink in his cheeks, even if his eyes were blue as the summer sky. Duo’s voice was deeper too, as if he’d finished puberty after they’d parted and Heero wasn’t sure that wasn’t right. He worried his voice wouldn’t have changed or would fail in someway. “Hi.” 

“So.” Duo took a slow breath, eyes shifting away, this way and that, not looking for escape, but some articulation that he’d always lacked a bit of, “Yeah, I’m a shit head. I didn’t write. I’m sorry. I still love you. Can I buy ya dinner? Yernotmarriedareyou?”

“I am not married,” Heero said, finally smiling, a tight lipped smile as if he could contain the bubbling and utterly undignified giggles trying to lift him off the ground. “I don’t know, Duo. Did you ever get a job? Can you afford to buy me dinner?”

It wouldn’t have mattered, honestly. Heero would have eaten a community cafeteria with Duo if that’s what it was. He just couldn’t help the dig. It wasn’t like he lost control of his manners with anyone else. He only lost control of his mouth with Duo, only when it mattered.

“I got reservations at the Taj and Sorentos. I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.” Duo licked his lips, more chewing at them. “I ain’t a bum.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I,” Heero said, “I don’t know why I said that. I still love you too. Let’s just fight until things work out.” 

“Yeah,” Duo said, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t like fighting with you. I don’t want to do it anymore. Do you think you can love me? I’m not a bum.” 

Heero set his case down and cautiously reached out to put his hands on Duo’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry I ever said that. That was my own fears talking. I would give anything to be in your life, to wake with you next to me, to share my life with you. You tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Duo’s grin turned vulnerable, his chin tucking towards his chest, lower lip between his teeth and Heero could feel him tremble under his hands. “Can I touch your cock?”

Heero’s breath caught, turned into a small cough and then he shuddered. “If you do, I’ll probably ejaculate right here in the quad. I have a small apartment on campus, but it’s hardly private. Where do you live?”

“I just took a job downtown. I don’t have a place yet.”

“Did you take that job because I live here?”

“Yeah.”

“My god, I’m so happy to see you. What if we get a hotel room and a pizza?”

“I got a hotel room. I got a motorcycle.”

“Of course you do,” Heero said. “Wait, just a moment. Margot!” Heero waved at a passing student. 

“Professor Yuy,” she said, nodding politely, giving Duo in his scruffy looking jeans and tee-shirt a brief sideways glance. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I was wondering if I could impose on you and ask you to return my case to my office, please. It would be very helpful.”

“I can do that.” She gave Duo a more intense once over. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Heero said, smiling cat-with-the-canary-like. “Please allow me to introduce my husband, Duo Maxwell.”

Margot coughed and covered her mouth, brown eyes wide. “Your husband?”

“Indeed,” Heero said, positively beaming, before looking at Duo. “We are still married.”

“Yeah,” Duo said, hands in his back pockets, “We still married.”  
“Good, good,” Heero said thrusting his bag into Marot’s arms. “I will, unfortunately, miss the casual question and answer session tonight. If anyone is unduly distressed, please suggest they message me.” 

“Professor? Are you going,” Margot said, arms around Heero’s case, “off campus?”

Heero’s eyes were on Duo when he answered. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry,” Duo said, winking at the shocked girl. “Ah take good care’o’im.”

“What do you do,” she asked, nose wrinkling for just a moment until she got it under control.

“Ah jus got a job at the hospital. Ah’m way more respectable now.” Duo held out his hand for Heero.

“I see,” Margot hissed. 

Heero took Duo’s hand and nearly bounced in place. Duo cackled, pulled him suddenly close and kissed him lightly. Close together, they took off at a brisk pace. 

“Professor! Bruce and I’ll be available if you need anything! Message us, any time!”

Duo had no trouble navigating back to where he’d parked. His bike turned out to be the kind one half leaned over. There was a two person seat on it, that looked newer than the rest of the bike. “Kirk on,” he said as he swung his leg over. The bike responded to his voice and powered on with a rumbly roar. Duo held out his hand and Heero took it, staring at the bike for another moment before mounting in a more professor wearing slacks kind of way. 

“What about helmets?” 

“It’s self balancing and has built in crash gear. Wing Zero couldn’t knock us over.”

“You’re sure.” 

“Yeah,” Duo said drawing Heero’s arms around his waist. “You still like fast, right?”

“Yes,” Heero said, not entirely sure that was the answer, but it used to be the answer and Duo liked fast. 

“Kirk, blink,” Duo said. 

Heero felt a slight tingle. A haze seemed to surround the bike. “Oh my,” Heero held a little tighter. “It’s got stealth technology.”  
“I couldn’t get any more tickets,” Duo admitted. 

“Professor!” A skinny black guy came running up, looking everywhere for them, even though he was only a meter away. “Oh fuck. Maggie,” he said, the communication device in his ear blinking as he spoke, “That must have been Duo Maxwell, from the war. They’re gone already.” 

“They love you,” Duo said.

“You taught me to be a little approachable. They’re both grad students.”

Duo’s hotel turned out to be more of a hostel that he had a private room in. It was full of hippies and travelers and a bowl of free oranges. Duo offered forty bux to a couple of German travelers to go buy him a pizza and some beer. 

“‘Ro, you drink beer, right?” 

Heero half shrugged, half nodded. 

“Carl, this is Heero. He teaches math.”

“Wunderful,” Carl said holding out his hand, “My grandfather taught mathematics at the University of Munich. It’s too much for me.”

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Heero said, pulling his hand back as soon as he could.

“‘e’s not a big talker,” Duo said, hands on Heero’s shoulders, guiding him towards the stairs. “Keep mah pizza here and ah’ll be back in a few for it, ‘kay?”

“Ja,” Carl said. “Beer’ll be in the fridge.”

Upstairs, the room wasn’t big, was messy, with more black tee-shirts laying around, a small tablet computer in the center of the unmade bed, and Heero thought he’d never found any place more beautiful. He’d hated Duo’s mess, the near hoarding, the piles of half useless things, but now it was everything he wanted. He wanted Duo’s hair in his sink and Duo’s tee-shirt shoved in his desk so he could rub his face in when no one was looking. Lost in his thoughts, he had lost track of Duo closing and locking the door, missed Duo going to his knees, but as those fingers opened his belt, Duo had his entire attention. 

Such a powerful man, physically, socially, so present and vibrant, but now on his knees, so that Heero stared at the dark hair, the braid that touched the floor between Duo’s calves, and if sex was power, Duo was sex. 

Those strong fingers pulled his slacks open and pushed down his white cotton briefs, owning him as if he were Duo’s favorite book. He trembled and gasped as Duo’s lips kissed his cock. 

Sex was negotiations. It was the primitive in humanity that had roots back before the mind dreamed of taboos. It was trust. It was promises. As Duo’s warm mouth closed over the head of his cock, it was the end of thought all together. He came, just as he feared, before he’d reached the back of Duo’s mouth, with a fluttery groan and a focus so intense on where he and Duo intersected that his soul could have been spurting from him, his very self losing all walls so that Duo could fall directly into him. 

As soon as started, his fingers sank into Duo’s hair, encouraging, accepting. Duo’s arms went around him, cheek pressed to Heero’s only slightly softening cock. “I’m not fully alive without you.” 

Duo held onto him, arms around his legs like he were going to drown without him. “I just want to be good enough for you.”

Heero reached down and took hold of Duo’s arms, urging him up. “You are perfect. Do you still like to be fucked?”

“Yeah,” Duo whispered, vulnerable in his bent sexual kinks. 

“Let down your pants and bend over the bed, lift your ass for me.”

Duo blushed, legitimate blush. “Lube’s in the bag by the bed.” 

There was also a box of gloves and a stethoscope in the bag. Heero wondered if Duo had taken up safe cracking, but decided he didn’t care. 

Duo’s naked ass was the most beautiful thing. There were no tan lines though. Duo was pale tip to toe. Maybe he’d been off world. On a whim, Heero grabbed a glove and slipped it on. He ran his gloved fingers over Duo’s crack, pausing at his tight entrance. “When was the last time you were fucked,” Heero said, letting himself sound gruff. 

“You, you were my last,” Duo said, with a moan, lifting his ass up then wiggling as if he were trying to get away. 

Heero plunged a finger into that tight hole, spreading lube. “Mine. You’re mine. I’m going to put my dick all the way into you, deep.” 

Duo groaned. 

Heero reached his ungloved hand between Duo’s leg and stroked his hard cock. There was something more to seeing someone’s secret hungers, the not socially normative ones. Heero himself was completely hard again and confident he could last longer this time. 

He leaned over Duo, one hand going under Duo’s shoulder, holding him in place as Heero lined up and slide home. Duo was relaxed and ready for it, so they slide together as if they’d never been apart. Heero nuzzled Duo’s neck and bit him gently. He knew what phrases used to turn Duo on, but in that moment all he could say was that he loved him, that he needed him, that he’d really just die if Duo left again. It was a harder fuck, need, communication in rough vulnerability. 

Duo came with a howl and Heero gripped him, holding him for all he was worth as he followed him into that vulnerable bliss. 

As they warmed back to consciousness, Heero pulled Duo towards the center of the bed without letting go of him. “Please stay with me. I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you do anything at all. I have money. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I only need you.” 

“I’ll stay. Ah ain’t living on campus though.”

“I’ll buy you a house. It’ll have a huge garage. We can get a dog, like you wanted.” 

Duo rolled over, ran his fingers over Heero’s face. “Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero comes to conclusions....might not be right. Injury occurs.

Terminal Velocity 2/?

by Max

 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing

 

The whiteboard covered the wall and was tall enough that he had to use a step stool to get to some of it. A series of equations stretched over it, some worked multiple times with subtle changes. Heero’s short brown hair stood on end from having his hand holding it so frequently in the last few hours. He wore a white button up shirt, one sleeve rolled up more than the other and both smudged with the black pen he was using. 

According to the powers that be, it was a holiday. May Day was not a holiday that Heero felt any attachment to. For Heero it was Tuesday and Tuesday was not a holiday. Without students in his small lecture hall, he had plenty of time to work his mathematical proofs of consciousness in humans. It was his goal not only to prove his hypothesis, but to make the math simple enough that Duo could understand it. He wanted to show it to Duo before he showed anyone else. 

True to his word, he had bought Duo a house. It was a blue two bedroom house with a small swimming pool in the backyard and a small Buddhist shrine from the previous owners. Duo had declined the dog, citing work obligations. Heero hadn’t pressed him, hadn’t demanded to know what Duo did for a living. As long as it didn’t get Duo arrested, Heero didn’t care. 

Standing there in front of his set of equations, he tried to visualize Duo’s mind and all the math it would take to describe. While there were so many things he did know, there was so much he didn’t know. 

Abandoning, the old fashioned white board, Heero turned to the tablet on his desk. He gestured and drew up a scan of Duo’s brain. The holographic projection floated above his tablet as a spikey grey cloud. With gesture controls, he pulled it apart, triggered some simulations. A stream of data strolled next to the brain scan, naming patterns the simulation had triggered. They weren’t the words that Heero expected at all. Hematoma, incision, penetration, exsanguination, and Heero wondered why Duo carried so many words associated with human biology. It was satisfying that almost every third triggered concept was about him. Duo loved him. It seemed completely stupid that they’d ever fought, separated. 

The list continued with bullets, blunt force trauma, lacerations, and then Heero changed the simulation, highlighting empathy and emotional connection. Compared to other scans he’d obtained, Duo was a little low on that, so he probably wasn’t a doctor. Heero tried really hard not to think that Duo had become an assassin. His brain certainly contained enough ways to ruin the human body though. 

“Professor,” Juliette said, sticking her head into the room. 

Heero closed Duo’s brain scan suddenly, blushing without any real reason. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew to stay on campus. Security is elevated. There are a couple of riots downtown.”

“Why are there riots,” Heero asked, frowning. Suddenly Heero had this whole script in his head. Duo had said he was going to a labor protest, as he had the day off. Perhaps there would be political leaders and Duo was going to assassinate one. Maybe that was why he’d come to this town and he’d leave as soon as that job was completed. “Where are they?”

“Professor, riots are dangerous. Promise me you won’t go near them?”

“I fought in the wars,” Heero said, making a gesture to his white board that cleared it. “I can handle a little social unrest.”

“The wars were a while ago and there have been five people shot,” she touched her hand to the ear bud resting in her ear. “Paul says there’s a sniper by Central Square. Maybe call your boyfriend, check in and see what you guys want to do. I just wanted to check on you.” 

Heero gave her a curt nod. Everyone in the Mathematics department seemed to think he was helpless. It was fairly gratifying that the history majors didn’t think that. Nodding and smiling kindly as he crossed to the door, he then shut it in her face and pulled the shade. His heartbeat kept creeping up though. If Duo was an assassin, and this event was his target, he’d leave soon. Heero’s mind kindly supplied him with a great big warning klaxon rather like what a gundam sounded like before self destructing. 

Nervous, he rolled down his sleeves on his way back to his tablet and with a couple flicking gestures, he called Duo. A small holographic Duo, dancing in a pair of shorts and a Hawaiian shirt bounced around on Heero’s tablet. He swirled, his braid swishing around until he finally stopped. Facing Heero, he pointed at him with both fingers. “I can’t get to the phone. My system says I’m working.” He threw both hands up into peace signs. “Love and Joy!”

Heart nearly in his throat, Heero drew up a list of anyone political that was going to be in town for this May Day nonsense. Milliardo Peacecraft was in town, giving a speech on the benefits of low taxation, in an hour. 

Duo was going to kill Relena’s brother. 

Scrambling, Heero threw on his jacket, threw his tablet into his smaller case. He just didn’t have time to take all the papers he’d normally take. He didn’t lock his office. 

In five minutes, he was in a cab on his way the hotel that Millardo was staying at. It wasn’t information that just anyone could get, but Heero still had Preventer data access and the highest level of clearance. 

Millardo also wasn’t answering his phone. 

Just because. Because whY? WhY?

The taxi couldn’t make it all the way to down town because obstacles that looked a lot like human beings had lined the road and cut off traffic. They couldn't be humans. Humans couldn't be that stupid! 

“What did you expect,” the taxi driver said, shrugging her shoulders. “I won’t charge you while we’re waiting.” 

“That’s very nice of you,” Heero said, feeling more and more anxious. Protesters pressed up against the taxi, making horrendous faces at him. Heero held his small bag to his chest and he just knew. This was like something straight out of his own memories, like he was reliving a bad dream. Duo was going to kill Millardo! 

Heero gritted his teeth, fingers tapping along the edge of his case. Calling Preventers wasn’t an option. Getting Duo arrested was almost the last thing he wanted to do. He could get to and kill Millardo first. Then Duo would accept him as a teammate. Heero stared at his hands, tablet case pinched between his arms. The thought of holding a gun again made his hands shake. Millardo would kill in self defense and Duo would leave his corpse. 

He thought about Duo’s brain scan, that he’d given the moment Heero asked, and how much it supported the idea that Duo loved him. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe he understood everything wrong. 

Duo worked at the hospital though and still had enough money to buy very nice motorcycles, was never short of money. Heero had seen the size of money Duo donated to children’s charities every month. Duo was not short of money. Maybe the target wasn’t Millardo. 

Milardo had the most enemies though, enemies with money. 

So what if Duo’s brain showed signs of reward cycle when stimulated with thoughts of Heero. What was love anyway? It was just a bad habit that made a person weak. J had reinforced that quite vigorously. Duo wasn’t weak. 

Duo was going to kill Millardo. 

Heero thrust his tablet case against the driver’s shoulder. “Take this back to the university. Tell them Professor Yuy said to give you a respectable finders fee. You can negotiate that with them.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. 

He slipped out of his jacket and left that on the seat. Then he was out of the cab, up onto the roof, running from one car to the next until he got to the human blockade, which he went over with a Trowa trained somersault. He hit the ground running and protesters just got out of his way. 

The map to where Millardo would be speaking was already imprinted in his memory. With the delay on the road, he knew he had to go directly there. Running there would take too much time. The roads were completely filled with raving lunatics and their signs. 

Then he spied a bicycle with a big horn. He looked both directions and then fell on the bike. The thick industrial strength chain was no more than wet paper to him and he ripped it apart. 

The teenage girl who was running up to stop him skidded to a dead stop, her big brown eyes wide, her face pale. He glared at her, hands on her handlebars. 

She shook her head, twitched a smile and held up both hands like, ‘like no... go on with yo badself.’

“Mathematics department,” he snarled. “I’ll compensate you.”

She nodded, eyes watching him like he was a great predator and she just super happy he wasn’t hungry. 

He jerked the bike free of the rack, mounting it even as he spun it around, honking the horn to clear a path. Most bikes aren’t meant to go as fast as Heero Yuy can make them go. They also shouldn’t jump as well as Heero can make them jump. 

Closing on his target, another line of security attempted to stop him. It wasn’t like he could explain why he had to get through early, or why he looked half deranged. So he ducked down to make himself a smaller target as one of them pulled a pistol, then when he was close enough, he launched, pulling the bike up with him and half tossing it at the surprised guards, as he grabbed for the railing of a building to their side. 

Some other guard must have also drawn a weapon, because Heero could hear that nasty ping of small weapons fire, hear them hitting the concrete of the building he was running along. The last mile took no time. 

Millardo was just pacing the stage, making sure everything was in place, when he froze, eyes looked on Heero. 

Dressed in white and gold, he looked like the prince he was, tall and elegant, all the things that humans have always thought was best. He opened the bullet proof shielding and held his hands out for Heero. Another bullet hit the paving of the square, and then Milliardo ran towards Heero, both hands up waving like he could tell the security not to fire. 

Bullets move faster than human regret can catch them. Millardo grabbed the shorter Japanese man, arms tight around him as he turned his back to the security team. His breath caught and held. 

Heero gasped too. Only with his friend’s arms around him did he realize that the spreading red on Millardo’s white coat was his. He was already falling into the well when he saw the blood on the other side of the coat, which wasn't his. 

“I needed to warn you,” Heero wheezed, blood warm on his lips. 

Millardo twitched. “Thanks.”

Then they both fell in the empty square.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero wakes up and tries to figure out what Duo does for a living.

Terminal Velocity 3  
by Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing 

 

“Because this is the best and most rational choice,” Duo screamed. It wasn’t that the volume of his voice was raised, but Heero knew that tone and Duo was about to murder someone. 

He remembered losing consciousness. Duo must have been on them in a heartbeat after that, At least he had to come closer to finish Milliardo off. That at least gave the prince a fighting chance. 

Another blink and he was being lifted. It didn’t hurt, so drugs already. Fuckers were making a mistake. He wasn’t going to stay unconscious and when he woke up he was going to kill them all. Fucking OZ. How dare they trick him into killing good people? How dare they use him as a tool for their evil. Rage boiled in him. It wasn’t his fault! He always had to pay the price for other people! OZ did this! He grabbed the nearest arm, squeezing with all his strength, looking for the pop of bone. 

“Let go, Heero,” Duo’s voice purred in his ear. 

A woman screamed, sobbing, and that set off reward pathways in Heero’s brain, so he squeezed harder. 

Then his bullet wound exploded in pain. Heero’s eyes shot open. White light filled his vision. 

“01! Let relax your hand!” Duo’s voice blended with J’s in Heero’s memory and he complied, snarling, teeth showing because he didn’t want to comply! He wanted to rip the OZ woman’s hand clean off. 

“Charlie, turn the monitor so I can see it. I’m doing this now. Anyone else want to fucking argue with me?” 

“No doctor,” someone whimpered. 

Fear hit him then. Dr. J had him. He was going to be wiped out. He was going to lose himself to the goals of that man again. He’d kill them first! He’d rip them part-from-part and beat them with their bones. He strained at the restraints on his ankles and other wrist. He didn’t remember getting restrained. This only enraged him further. Monsters! They were monsters! How could they do this to a child! Wasn’t he human too? “I’m going to kill you,” He roared in Japanese. This got him footsteps fleeing. 

Only as it lifted did he realize he had a plastic mask over his mouth and nose. Soft, warm lips brushed against his. Duo. Love rushed into him, but sorrow too. What if this were only a memory, his dying memory, where his mind conjured the most beautiful comfort it could. “I love you. I will always love you. You are life.”

“I know Heero. I know. I love you too. I’m going to get you out of here. We’re going home together. I need you to help me though. Can you help me?”

“Yes,” Heero said, “unstrap me. I’ll kill them.” 

“I have a plan,” Duo said, “I need you to relax, just play like you’re sleeping. I’m going to just wheel you out and Q has a safe house set up. Can you just relax for a few minutes?”

“Yes,” Heero said, though he didn’t like it. “You’re the god of death.” 

“That’s right, baby,” Duo said, signaling for his anesthesiologist to jack up the anesthesia. “Take a deep breath now. I’m going to put the mask back. We’ll be out of here soon, baby.” 

“Okay,” Heero said, taking in a deep breath just as Duo set the mask back down, holding it tightly in place, a hand behind Heero’s head. “Jade, intubate him when I give you the go. Let’s get some blood started. Did the antibiotics I requested get here?”

“Yes, doctor.”

Heero’s mind spiraled into confusion as he sank. Duo was Dr. J, but time traveling? 

<><>

Heero blinked awake. Hospital. Shot. Duo was an assassin. He’d killed Millardo. Were they arrested?”

A cute nurse with pink hair done in poofy ponytails bounced in. “I’m so glad to see you’re awake, Professor Yuy! Your doctor expected you to be awake earlier and he meant to be here when you woke, but there have been so many injuries from May Day. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Do you know where Duo Maxwell is?”

“I do,” she said, smiling as she checked his catheter bag and localized readouts. “Are you hungry? Doctor said you might wake really hungry so I saved you two breakfasts.” 

“Name?”

“Me? I’m Lady Alecia Shenzen, but you can call me Alec. Would you like to sit up so I can bring you that breakfast? I will confess that it wasn’t made in the hospital kitchen, but is brought from home.”

“I want Duo Maxwell,” Heero said. His dream about Duo promising to take them home, must have been a dream.

“He’s very busy, but I’m sure he’ll be here shortly, Profesor Yuy.” She went forward with sitting him up. 

“He does really work here?”

“He does,” she said, fluffing up his pillow. 

“What does he do,” Heero asked, feeling a little more professorly now that he was sitting up, the sun was coming in the window, and she was being so nice to him. 

She smiled brightly. “He’s Chief of Integrated Trauma Surgery.”

“Seriously, what does he do here?” Heero let out a heavy breath. The idea of Duo holding still long enough to make it through medical school didn’t seem feasible. Heero hadn’t had a profile pulled on Duo, even though he could have, but that would be illegal. As far as he knew, Duo hadn’t even graduated high school, let alone gotten into medical school. 

“Come back here you! You sorry son of a bitch,” Duo screamed, his voice echoing down the hall. “If you don’t sign this paperwork, you will never hear the end of me! Do you hear me? Don’t you get on that elevator! Don’t you let those doors close!”

The elevator bell rang and then the stairwell door slammed behind Duo as he ran down the stairs. 

“Would you believe he’s on the customer relations team for charity work?” She smirked. 

“I believe he lives passionately, no matter what he’s doing,” Heero allowed. Duo as a surgeon did make more sense than Duo as customer service. Maybe it was still the drugs, but he suddenly had an image of Duo in a call center, face twisted up in annoyance as he grumbled, “How should I know why it won’t turn on. Am I in the room with you? Did you fucking plug it in?” Which would swiftly be followed by, “But what’chu mean I’m fired?”

The giggles started and bubbled up out off him, making his side ache, but there was nothing he could do to stop. 

Alec took that moment to go get his breakfast. By the time she got back, he was sitting up a little more, thinking that he needed to shave. Duo probably hadn’t been out to kill Millardo if he’s chasing people down the halls of the hospital a couple days later. Maybe he was some kind of pharmaceutical representative. 

Oh.  
Shit.  
I got Millardo shot.   
Because I was running from his security.  
Well.  
Then.

 

“How is Milliardo Peacecraft?”

“According to the news, he was stabilized and moved to Bethesda Medical Center. Don’t worry about anything though, just relax, and let your body heal.” 

“What day is it?”

“It’s Tuesday, the third of May.” 

“Oh I have class,” Heero said, wiggling his feet, testing if he could get up.

“You also have an I.V. and a catheter. I’m not authorized to remove either and I don’t suggest you do either. If you’re very good and do what you’re told, you’ll probably be back in class next week.”

 

“I’m fine,” Heero said, stretching a little to feel how his side reacted. 

“You are not. Now you stay in that bed, try to sleep, or so help me, I will get a Preventer agent to sit in here with you and read you bedtime stories.”

Heero gave her a challenging look, but before he could say anything else, an alarm went off and she ran out. 

Her sudden absence brought Heero great relief. He was not going to be told what to do! After pushing the breakfast tray out of the way, he threw the covers back and froze. 

He’d wiggled his toes. He had! He’d moved his feet. He felt like he was moving them even as he stared. He clearly hadn’t because one of them wasn’t there and the other had a nice modern thin cast from foot to thigh. On the cast, Duo had written, “Don’t fucking get up. I’ll be back soon. <3 You.”

 

Slowly, Heero lowered his bed back down. Okay. Waiting seemed like a decent idea for that moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, but from Duo's pov, and then a bit from Zechs.

Terminal Velocity 4/?  
by Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing, Tremors, or Pokemon

This chapter happens right before Heero’s surgery, overlapping with it, but it’s from Duo’s POV.

Chapter Four

“Duo!” Clarice ran after Duo, down the busy hallway. 

He walked a little faster, trying not to seem like he was walking a little faster. He’d been working there for six months, five of which he’d lived with Heero, none of which he’d really had the nerve to tell Heero what he did. 

It’s not like it should have been a big deal. Like that first take out pizza should have found them going... So what’cha do? Math professor. Spiffy. Oh me? Yeah, I’m a trauma surgeon and a damn good one. Yeah, yeah, turns out I’m really good at cutting folk open? Who woulda thought? 

But it didn’t go like that. 

Heero didn’t ask.

Duo thought Heero didn’t ask because he thought Duo was working as a janitor or some shit. So each day went by and he just didn’t say. 

So six months later, Duo was pretty convinced that Heero thought he was a drug dealer, card player, or sex worker or something. 

Fighting over it wasn’t worth the fight that it would take, so Duo just let it go. He hadn’t learned it in the war, but in medical school he got good at win the battles you can and let go of the ones you don’t have to win. 

Heero loved him. Even if Heero thought he was a bum, Duo was okay with that. 

“Dr. Maxwell!” Clarice nearly yelled. 

Her voice got louder as he spun, just turning on his heel, and grinning at her, which had her almost running into him. “Yes, Dr. Alps? Ah did clean out the coffee pot and that chili pepper in yer yogurt had nothing at all to do with me.” 

“I hadn’t eaten that yet. Shit.” She rubbed her eyes. “Look, I need a favor.”

Duo shoved his hands in the pockets of his white coat, pushed air from one cheek to the other for a moment. “Don’t we all?”

She scrubbed at her lips for a moment, staring at him. “But you’re good at this. I need your help.”  
He let his eyes drop to her chest, tilted his head, opened his eyes a little wider, made a show of blinking. 

“God, I fucking hate you, you gay ass bastard. I told you. It’s natural that way. You going to help me or not?”

“What do you want, Alps?”

She pulled a small file up from the smart watch she wore and it hung there for a moment like a little tiny disembodied spirit. “It’s an MS diagnosis. Patient is poor. I can’t just send her up to L4 for a refit and even if I could, their treatments aren’t really better than ours. I just, I am going to botch if I tell her. I’ll go in, spit it and run.” 

Duo reached out, caught the little file and it soaked into the ring he wore, uploading into his personal data space. “Fine, but you owe me lunch for a week.” 

“Done!” She backed up, making ready to escape.

“And Alps,” Duo said, “Poor folk part of the job too, you know?”

It was her turn to give him a look that they both knew what she meant. He was staying on Earth. The city swarmed with poor. She was going home to L3. The poor folk were his job. He wrinkled his nose and looked away. At least his chest was the same size on both sides, even if his soulmate thought he was a gangster. Small prizes. 

“Thanks again! Also, she’s kind of... goth or something. Kinda weird. You’ll probably like her.”

“What’chu tryin ta say,” Duo said, not even trying to hide the scruffy L2 accent. 

Clarice smirked, used American sign language to sign, “You’re a weird, gay daddy fucker, so there.”

Duo’s mouth fell open for a moment before his face twisted up into an affectionate smile and mock-threatening snarl. 

A wadded up ball of paper hit Clarice in the head and the turned to find the head data technician wagging his finger at them, before he signed, “Don’t you to teenagers have any actual work to be doing? Assholes.”

Duo snickered, signed his thanks and wandered off to the room with his new patient. 

He found her to be a teenage girl, with shoulder length dark hair, brown eyes, androgynous as chocolate, and already angry when he walked into the exam room. Panic grabbed hold just above his heart and for a very brief moment this was as hard as it always was. He grabbed a chair, spun it around, while straddling it and scooting closer. “Hey Émilie, I hear you got the headache from Hell.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“I am Dr. Duo Maxwell. I’m here to talk about what we need to do to help that headache get better and get your eye working again.” 

Her anger firmed up into a strong wall, her face hardening, and then just as fast as the barrier rose, it bleached away. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

“Well, to be fair, there’s something wrong with all of us. Sometimes we just don’t get a name for it. In your case, we have a name and we have some ways to treat it. We’re always getting better so there will be better treatments.” 

“What about a cure?” She blinked, tears gathering at her lashes. 

“We’re working on it. Have you heard about multiple sclerosis?”

“Nothing good.” 

“We need to do more tests, because there are several kinds, but we’re going to be able to help you. The majority of people live their full lives and our treatments are getting better all the time.” 

“Yer jus full of bullshit, aren’t you? I bet you ain’t never been really sick.” 

Heero’s voice bellowed down the hall, “I’m going to kill you!”

Duo’s mouth dropped open, his eyes blinked, and after a moment he jumped out off the chair and stared at the door. 

A group cops and medical folk rushed an emergency gurney down the hall, Heero half strapped to it. He had a handful of one of the cop’s hair, even as people tired to get him to let go. “I’m going to kill you!” 

He looked back at his patient, face pale. “That’s my boyfriend. I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” she said in the smallest voice possible. 

Duo shouldered his way into the fray, shoving one cop out of the way, while taking his pistol at the same time. How he managed to disassemble it and drop the parts, while still getting Heero’s attention, Duo would never be able to explain. 

“Hey Baby,” Duo said, finally getting Heero’s hand prised open, and rather roughly giving the cop a kick to the gut to get her away from the gurney. “How ya doin? Why ya bleedin?”

By then they’d gotten to the doors to the main trauma OR. Duo was ready to go right on in, to take charge of the surgery. He was the lead trauma surgeon. He spent much of his time in that OR. Then Hadley grabbed him by the back of the coat and held him as Heero was wheeled right on in. 

“Dr. Nguyen is going to do this surgery. Let someone else. You’re too close.” 

“You don’t know Heero!”

“I know you and you know Heero too well. He’s got multiple gunshot wounds and potentially serious blunt trauma. Dr. Nguyen is very capable!”

“Yes, but not with Heero!” Duo covered his eyes for a moment, smelled the blood on his hand, and dropped all emotion. After a second, he looked up at the director of the hospital and smiled professionally. “Heero Yuy responds differently to anesthesia and he will become more violent and dangerous, which will have a seriously negative impact on his mental health when he regains his senses. He is also a heroic figure in popular culture and if he dies under your watch, your name will go down in history.” 

“I don’t give a shit about history,” Hadley said, their face just as impassive and determined as Duo’s. “I care about my doctors and my patients. You will trust your colleague and act like a good family member.” 

Then that nurse screamed and not a startled scream, but one of actual pain. 

“You can fire me later,” Duo said, pulling away an into the foyer of the OR, where the automatic decontamination sequence began. It only took second before he and everything he wore were germ free. As he passed through the second set of doors, he slipped into a second gown, gloves, booties, and hood, with the automated system tucking his braid for him. 

The rest of the staff had already pulled way from Heero and Duo could see the nurse’s forearm was broken. If she hadn’t kept to her feet, it would have been in two parts by then. 

“Heero,” Duo whispered, in his lover’s ear, “I have a plan. I need you to relax, just play like you’re sleeping. I’m going to just wheel you out and Q has a safe house set up. Can you just relax for a few minutes?”

“Yes,” Heero said, though he didn’t like it. “You’re the god of death.” 

“That’s right, baby,” Duo said, signaling for his anesthesiologist to jack up the anesthesia. “Take a deep breath now. I’m going to put the mask back. We’ll be out of here soon, baby.” 

Duo held the mask in place, gesturing for staff to get the nurse, to help her. He leaned closer to Heero again, “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of everything. I love you.” 

Heero’s bloody hand grabbed Duo’s wrist, but instead of gripping, he rubbed the back of thumb over Duo’s hand, then faded into sleep. 

<><><>

Preventers Security Office

 

Zechs leaned back in the chair. His gloves lay over the arm of the chair. He lifted his teacup, as if he were Milliardo. “That’s right,” he said in Milliardo’s voice, so sweet and reasonable. In the back of his mind, Milliardo hid, watching cautiously. 

Commander Une, who liked Heero, but didn’t play favorites, and really wanted someone to blame for the bad publicity and paperwork associated with discharged ammunition, not to mention that if this were her staff’s fault, they’d be liable if Heero sued. “You’re saying this is all just a big misunderstanding. Heero Yuy broke through security, because you invited him, he clearly thought you were in danger and was coming to your aide. You invited him to visit you, but you neglected to tell your own security. As a consequence, there were multiple casualties, but it’s all a big misunderstanding?” 

Cool as snow in January, Zechs smiled, sipped, nodded. “Exactly. Your staff shouldn’t shoot people, by the way. To shoot someone before you even ask them what they’re doing, isn’t that a egregious human rights violation.” 

Une’s soul twitched. There were times in her life when she’d have seen just how sore his bullet wound was if he wanted to make her so much trouble. “You’re going to hold that story?”

Summoning up all the innocence any Peacecraft had ever been capable of, Zechs smiled, “It’s the truth.” He sipped his tea again, letting a bit more darkness through, letting her soak in the changes peace had brought to their social positions. “If I were you, I’d even make sure a very complimentary story about Heero’s heroics were released to the public. I’d like it if he got a medal.” His expression became downright threatening. “In fact, I’d like that a lot. Commander.” 

Une’s jaw hurt then, a slow throbbing that she didn’t think would go away until he did. Seeing the outbound side of Earth’s sky seemed really appealing to her then. “I’m make that happen.” 

“Excellent,” Milliardo said, his voice just slightly softer than Zechs pretending to be him. “Can I buy you lunch? We could go to the spa afterwards. You look stressed.” 

“I have work to do, medals to request, Your Highness. Some other time.”

“Wonderful,” Milliardo said, setting his teacup down and reaching for his gloves. “So we’re done then?” 

“Absolutely.” Because, not even in her wildest dreams, could she figure out how to strangle him and not have negative consequences. “Thank you for your time. Have a lovely day.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Heero POV, and a little Duo

Terminal Velocity 5  
by Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing

 

His first breath felt wonderful, filling his lungs like sunlight, warm and clean. This is what good sleep must feel like. He shifted just slightly and found himself on his side, still in a hospital bed, Duo’s hand in his. 

There is something to beauty that is always like it’s the first time seeing it, always like it just hits you and you’ve just never seen anything so beautiful before. Dark brown hair, just to his chin, laying against skin that is this splendid pale tea color, darker than when they’d first met and Duo hadn’t learned what a beach was good for yet, but still like he spent too much time inside. Thick dark lashes lay against a hint of blue, or purple, some physical confession of a less than ideal lifestyle, but not violence, just lack of sleep. His lips were a rose color, a little peach, slightly parted, and Heero wished he could reach out brush the tips of his fingers across them. Sleeping Duo was not the best, because he was always better when he was awake and jabbering about half sensical nonsense, but sleeping Duo had great appeal. 

He was mysterious, fey, some ephemeral creature that refused to obey the laws of humanity. 

Heero wanted to block out what he’d done to get him into the hospital. Everything had just seemed so obvious, but now it seemed obviously stupid, expensive, dangerous. He was probably going to go to jail, lose his job, be banished from Earth. Though having a criminal boyfriend who loved him enough to sleep in a chair would probably help with some of that stuff. He’d just have to find a nice way to explain that he occasionally just went insane and he wasn’t going to go to therapy or take medication. Maybe next time he got obsessed with some crazy idea, he’d just run it by Duo first. If it was too crazy to be okayed by Duo, it was probably pretty crazy. 

Then there was the whole thing with his missing leg/legs? He felt like he ought to be more concerned, more interested in that, but somehow it didn’t really matter. The pain that had been in his calves for months was gone and that was good enough. 

A nurse slipped into the room, leaned over and gently shook Duo’s shoulder.

“Leave him alone,” Heero hissed, afraid Duo was going to get kicked out. “He’s my significant other. Treat him like my husband.” 

The woman held up a hand. “Whoa there tiger.” Her hand turned into a single raised finger, her dark brown eyes giving him a death glare. “He’s made that perfectly clear, but we need to borrow him for a while.” 

“Why? He’s not on shift now. Leave him alone.” 

“Sweetie,” she said, annoyed, “He’s the head trauma surgeon. He’s always on shift.”

A golden light spiked through Heero’s mind. The light came with physical pain and he jerked his hand back from Duo, shoving Duo’s hand away. Jaw clenched, he started reciting Pi, carefully, slowly, one single number at a time. The doctors couldn’t get him now. Duo wasn’t a doctor. Duo was a gambler and a street racer. Not a doctor, not a doctor. 

“Heero,” Duo said, cool fingers brushing over Heero’s face. “Open your eyes, please.” 

“No.” 

Duo pulled a projected screen, translucent and full of dozens of scans from the wall. “Heero, you’re having a transient ischemic attack. Take a deep breath for me, Heero, please.”

That was the easy part, as he’d been holding his breath. The most wonderful calm wrapped around him, surrounding him in Duo’s love and esteem as he drifted into the sweetest sleep. 

As soon as he was out, and Duo was satisfied that his vital signs had returned to normal, he opened another screen, filing out the message by signing. “Jackson, more resources on this project. I need to know why Yuy is having TIAs. I want an answer!” 

After a moment, a typed response came back that answers would be had when they were had and to fuck off. 

Duo yawned, shoving the back of his hand in his mouth for a moment. “What’s so fucking important?”

“There is a patient,” she said.

“Shocked.” Duo said, feeling like tired was going to pull his face just down, all the way off.

“You know you had me searching the records for any kind of nanites that matched the cancer causing ones found in Heero’s legs.”

“Okay,” Duo said feeling much less tired.

“Well, I found them in a patient that’s been in the psychiatric ward for five years. When I scanned them, they activated. When I came to get you, he was on the roof trying to beat the plasteel barrier down with his hands so he can jump. He has a shard of metal and he’s threatening anyone that gets near him. He’s gone from skinny and frail to being able to literally rip things apart. Security is keeping him on the roof.” 

“Anyone call the authorities, as far as you know?”

“Don’t know.” 

Duo nodded and ran for the roof.


	6. Monsters all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo gets to the top of the roof... it's not what he expected, but it never is.

Terminal Velocity 6/?  
by Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing.

Shit.  
Mental health issues weren’t really Duo’s jam. Being suicidal wasn’t all that different from a nasty compound fracture, but Duo could fix one up and the other had a nasty tendency of being contagious. Fixing Heero came before everything though and a second patient with similar symptoms and history was beyond valuable. So Duo took the stairs to the roof three at a time. Dead patients almost never respond well to treatment. 

Coming up the last flight of stairs, he found three guards, weapons all drawn, huddled together like the zombie apocalypse would come around the corner at any moment. “Hey!” He called out as he ran up towards. 

The lanky red guy spun on him, pistol aimed at his chest. The man’s eyes were wide, more white than pupil, face pale enough to need a transfusion. 

Duo came up short, hands flying up, braid heavy on his spine, both felt like they clung to his sweaty back. He smiled, but behind violet eyes he was calculating how to disarm the guy and how many times he could get away hitting him with is own pistol.  
“Vern! It’s Dr. Maxwell!” Captain Sarl said, giving just enough time to look at Duo before glaring her teammate into submission. She held her pistol in a more controlled, but professional and likely more dangerous way. “Doctor, you don’t want to be up here. It’s dangerous, go back!” 

The other guy, who was watching around the corner, up the last flight of stairs with enough tension in his body that the hospital probably didn’t have enough valium to calm his ass own. “It’s a monster!” 

Moving slowly, as Vern stopped aiming at him, Duo ran his hands over his head, pushing stray brown hair back. “I know a thing or two about monsters.” 

“Preventers is dispatching a team,” Captain Sarl said firmly. “We’re only attempting to limit its movements.” 

Duo hadn’t stopped coming up. Vern seemed perfectly happy to trade places with him, letting Duo get above them on the stairs. “He’s a patient, not a monster.” Duo kept his hands visible, slowly moving to be able to get around them and move up the very last flight. “Let me talk to him.” 

When the last guy turned to look at Duo, Duo was pretty sure he had more than one psychiatric patient on hand. Why couldn’t it all be broken bones? Bones were easy. Brains were fucking hard. There is this look that people get when they’ve seen ghosts, monsters, as if the edge of the world of identity has started to unravel. It’s a pretty dreadful form of mind cancer, not brain cancer. Duo had treatments for that, or knew people who did. Minds made brains look like crayons and chocolate milk. “It ain’t human.”

“Okay,” Duo said, hands up to show he wasn’t a threat to them. He turned his fingers to point at his chest. “I’m a doctor though and emergency services are my jam. I just want to see if I can help. That’s what we all want, right? Just get things calmed down.”

Sarl looked at him, weighed him. “You saw strange shit in the war?”

Duo nodded, head moving a little sideways, as if with nodding he could agree, but fucking wished he couldn’t. “Yeah.” 

“It’s like, radiation or something, or something, you know, like the gundams and colonists did shit,” she said, thumb brushing over her safety in indecision. 

“Yeah. Stuff happened,” Duo agreed, though he wasn’t sure what he was exactly agreeing too. That was one of the beauties of Earth English. Soooo flexible. 

The howl started above them, just a subaudible whine, but it built into a roar like actual wind, ruffling Duo’s bangs, slipping under the bland green scrub top and needling tingles across his abdomen. 

The guards backed down a few stairs. Duo grabbed both handrails and pulled, forcing himself up the stairs. “Hey!” he said, feeling a terror rise up from the deepest oldest part of his mind, the part he got from ancestors that were running from lions. The modern space going man that he was, he pushed forward into the anguished wail coming from the roof. “Ah just wanted to see if ya wanna get sum roomservice, ya know?”

The roaring wail stopped abruptly, a broken file, lost connection. Fear sweat running down his back, Duo rubbed his bangs back and stood there at the very top landing, facing the closed door to the roof. After another moment of quiet, he said, just little louder than a whisper. “Ya there?”

He had enough time to take a slow breath, painful in a chest tight with fear. 

“Yes.” The voice was in his head, in the hall like a ricochet, and clearly behind that door like an avalanche. 

Mouth suddenly dry, Duo reminded himself that this was just a patient, just a psychiatric patient who had survived the same lab that experimented on Heero. “So ya hungry then?”  
“No.” The impression of hand pushed against the metal door like it was memory foam. 

Duo wiped this knuckles under his nose and took a step closer. “So,yah, Ah’m Dr. Maxwell, and Ah wanna help ya.” 

The impression of the hand withdrew, leaving the door just a little rusted in the form of a handprint. “You talk like an L2 dog.”

“Dawgs’re ver nice,” Duo said, thoughts rushing around in his head. He’d grabbed gloves and some small sample collection vials. He really didn’t think any of the pistols half a flight of stairs away were gonna help with this problem and he’d sworn off weapons before medical school, but fuck, he also wanted a fucking cigarette, so all bets were off. “I want to help you.”

“Oh wait,” that deep, suddenly pleased with itself voice said. He could hear the change in location, but whatever was on the other side of the door trace a finger along the wall, leaving a lingering indentation as it moved. If the voice had been a font, it slowly morphe into a curly, sparkly party font. “OH! I know who you are.” 

Duo was 99% sure that was not a good thing. If his braid could have run away and dragged him along, it would have. “Look! Ah’m gon cut ta da chase, an’portant friend o’mine got similar biopartials as ya got and Ah gotta know how ta help’im.”

“He’s not really 01, you know?” The finger moved away from the wall and the line started crumbling with rust.

“What’chu mean?”

“He loved you from the first moment he saw you. Do you believe in love like that? Love that just jumps into being like life itself did? I think that loving you, as much as they hated it, was why he became stable.” 

“Tell me about what they did to you,” Duo said, regaining himself a bit, stepping closer. “I will help you undo it. I will help you.” 

“He’s my little brother.” 

Duo felt himself blink, head tilted, like some overused social media meme. “You’re Heero’s older brother?”

“Can you help him?”

“I will,” Duo swore, leaving off the ‘or die trying’ part. 

“His name was Asahi.” The sadness in the other’s voice felt like it was raining oil in the stairwell, as if souls could melt under the loss. “You really do love him, don’t you, L2 dog?”

“I do love him. Let me help you,” Duo begged, laying a hand on the door, meaning it as a gesture of trust. “You can trust me.” 

Distantly, Duo could hear boots running up the stairs. “Let me in. Let me help you.” 

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” 

“What’s your name?” Duo reached for the doorknob and found it turned easily under his hand. 

“My name is Hiro. You tell him that our mother loved him.” 

Duo ground his teeth, forced a calming breath. He expected to find a Japanese man, hands bleeding, body a mess, crazy eyes, maybe visible cancer signs like he’d found in Heero’s legs. So he steeled himself to have a nice welcoming smile, trustworthy bedside manner. The monster was family. Inlaws. He’d always wanted inlaws. 

He let his breath out as he opened the door. Mistake. Yup. Shit. 

They stared at each other.  
There was a roughly man sized shape of boiling sand. As they stared at each other, Hiro’s face was almost normal, looked like his Heero, blue eyes, that lovely honey skin, and then half of it started sag, to melt. 

Duo felt his good intentions shifting to an expression of horror. The melting of Hiro’s face shifted to a growl, his whole jaw sagging, and then vomit or blood spat forth a wet beam cannon. Duo squeaked and jerked the door shut hard. The projectile substance hit the door hard, heating and shaking it. Duo held it shut, back against it. 

There are many things that medical school just does not prepare you for adequately. In his mind he imagined sitting in class, raising his hand. “So Doctor, when I meet my brother-in-law, he’s going to spit several gallons of acid blood at me. What should I do?”

He knew just which teacher would answered that question and the answer was, ‘less acid’. That teacher had never been very fucking helpful. Duo pulled on his gloves. Shaking hands, he caught up a sample vial of the substance crawling under the door. It wasn’t seeping... it was crawling. 

Sample wrapped in those gloves, tucked in his pocket, he turned and banged on the door. “That was rude! Don’t be an asshole! What they did to you was shitty! I am going to help you!” 

“You can’t help me!”  
Duo jerked the door open again, ready this time. “Yes, I fucking can!” 

“Duo!” Wufei yelled from below. “Cover!”

Duo dropped, hands going over his head. That kept Wufei’s bullets from hitting him, but Hiro grabbed a fistful of Duo’s hair and threw him as if he were a bag of gummy bears. Suddenly airborne, a look of shock on his face, he had no preparation when he hit the already cracked protective glass. It shattered under him, biting into him, but even though he could feel the slice of the glass, the pain of it lagged behind. 

The glass fell outwards raining down towards the garden over twenty stories below. He saw Wufei in the door, saw Wufei reaching or him. The sound of Wufei’s scream hadn’t reached him then the biological abomination that was Heero’s older brother flowed over him like sand spilling from a broken hourglass. Spilled time was lost time. He reached for Wufei, reached with all his will. He still needed to apologize for something from their last mission, the disastrous Walmart affair. The dead always get forgiven though. 

Fuck. 

Then Wufei’s hand caught the back of his shirt, which shifted, half strangling him. Hanging there, mouth open, the other man’s body a spatter far below. Duo’s head went light as shock attempted to make him feel no pain. “Wu! I’m sorry ... about that time!”  
“Shut up, Maxwell,” Wufei wheezed. “I got two inches of safety glass in my gut. I’m not angry over shit you pulled when you were 14.”

“15!” 

“Idiot!” 

 

Other hands pulled Duo backup and over. Medical teams swarmed them both.  
The hospital put Duo in a bed next to Heero, pushed the beds close enough that Heero could hold Duo’s hand. 

Wufei tried to discharge himself after his surgery to put his intestines back in order. Une had to threaten to fire him. 

Wufei swore they’d had worse days. It was fine. Everything was fine.


	7. Happy Birthday..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo's friend takes over his surgery.

Terminal Velocity 7/?

by Max

 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. 

 

The moment the hands grabbed him, pulling him back up, away from the lethal drop, all the carefully built walls and rules of his mind collapsed. He wasn’t on the roof of the hospital anymore, though he was, kind of. 

 

“That is a fuck shit of blood,” another voice, calm, but a little lost, so maybe a Preventer said. “Maxwell, you still with us?” 

 

Attempting to answer the question, Duo blinked, trying to focus. Preventers. Some Preventers.  Blood. Whose blood? Wufei! He should get up. He should help. 

 

“Maxwell,” a big black man said, “You remember me? Alan St. Grenis?” 

 

He shouldn’t be hurt too badly. He hit the wall. That was it.  He had some cuts on his back. No big deal. He couldn’t move his hand. He didn’t try to move his feet. “Wufei?”

 

“Captain Chang will be fine,” Alan said. 

 

He couldn’t turn his head. He had vertebrae damage, lower than C4. So arrogant. “Only Sally. Tell them. Only Sally.” 

 

“What does that mean,” Alan asked. “Is that your wife?”

  
“No, dumbshit, he’s married to Commander Yuy.” 

 

“No shit?” Alan asked. 

 

“Write it on my face,” Duo demanded. “Write ‘Only Sally’.” 

 

“I think yer hurt pretty badly,” Alan said, now on one knee. “I can hear the medical folk coming up though. Just be calm. If yer gon get the shit kicked out of you, the hospital is the place to do it.”

 

“‘Fei!” Duo tried to yell, but found his lungs insufficient, giving little more than a wheeze. “You tell them! Only Sally! She’s my doctor. Only Sally!” 

 

“Duo,” Wufei said, calm, almost academic like he always was. “Sally is in Denver. Conference. If you bleed to death before she gets back, Yuy will curl up and die. Just be calm. Everything will be okay.”

 

“No, no,” Duo said, panicking more. “No pain meds!”

“Dr. Maxwell,” a new voice said, “Can you hear me?” 

 

Blinking again, he found annoying tears blurring his vision. “I want my doctor!”

 

“Dr. Maxwell,” an unfamiliar voice said sternly. “I need to you to calm down. We’re moving you into surgery. What do you say to patients right before you go in?” 

 

Duo blinked. He could feel his eyelids moving, but everything was utterly black.  In that moment, he was both on his way into surgery and laying on a cold metal floor. In both he bled internally. “I don’t consent! I don’t consent!”

 

“Record that the patient is presenting systematic for acute post-traumatic stress and high anxiety. Request override for consent requirement.”  The voice spoke without emotion. 

 

“I will fucking kill you,” Duo screamed, epinephrine flooding his unresponsive body. “I will rip your spine out and strangle you with it!” 

 

“Request a 72 psychiatric hold post-surgery,” the voice said, with a not small hint of threat. “Override received. Dr. Maxwell, we are going to repair your spine. When you wake, everything will be much better. Please count back from ten for me as we disconnect you from the surgical network.” 

 

“NO! Fuck you!” Duo screamed, but even he knew his scream was only in his head.

 

  
  
<><>   
  
Heero opened his eyes to find a red headed child smiling him nervously. No. A woman. A small woman. Maybe? A woman.  “Yes.”

 

“Hi! I’m Dr. Kayla O'Shanassy. I’m Duo’s friend. I have very little time. I need you to say something on recording for me. Please, just trust me.” 

 

Resting on his side, in a bed he hadn’t been out of for more than a few minutes in days, looking at her, was the first moment he really felt almost normal. “Go on.”

 

She held up a recording device. “After I press the button, I need you to say, ‘My name is Heero Yuy. I am Duo Maxwell’s legal husband and I consent only to Dr. Kayla O’Shanassy or Dr. Sally Po providing his care.’”

 

No sane person would look in those blue eyes and not know that betrayal didn’t mean a nasty death at some point. She pressed the button. “My name is Heero Yuy. I am Duo Maxwell’s legal husband and I consent only to Dr. Kayla O’Shanassy or Dr. Sally Po providing his care.”

 

“Thank you!” She yelled as she ran from the room. 

 

The surgical suites were on the next floor up and she took the stairs, getting to the anteroom just before the final bell. “Stop! Let me do it! Let me do the surgery!”

 

Commander Une, who was there for Wufei, as well as the hospital administrator, half the surgical interns, and a dozen other people, stared at her.  She tried to smile, Duo fashion, because it always worked well for him. He was such an idiot savant sometimes. She just felt like an idiot.

 

The chief of nursing looked her over. “You’re Dr. Maxwell’s informatics specialist, Jala ... something? Didn’t you used to be a doctor?”

 

“I’m Dr. Kayla O’Shanassy. I completed a surgical residency, but I specialized in data. I do work with Duo. We’ve done pioneering work in trauma surgery and I am the most familiar and experienced with his techniques. ”  

 

She held up her little recording device and played a spotty, digital sounding clip in Duo’s voice that said, “I want Dr. O’Shanassy in charge of my care until Dr. Po arrives.”  Immediately following that, she played Heero’s clip. 

 

“We have the best surgeon in the city attending him,” the administrator said. “Dr. Maxwell already has the best care available. We all care about him.” 

 

Trowa strode through the doors then, a paper held out. Manicured and tailored, he was the Heavyarms version of an attack lawyer. “I have an injunction!”

 

At that point, most of the residents were just ready to take a step back. 

 

“Give me that,” the administrator snapped. “Who are you?”

 

“Trowa Winner, esq.”  Trowa motioned for Kayla to hurry the hell up. 

 

She shouldered her way past and into the decontamination path. 

 

“This is outrageous!  Who the hell do you think you are to second guess our medical choices? We love him too!”

 

Trowa leaned a little and in a deathly calm voice, “I’m Dr. Maxwell’s lawyer.” 

 

As Kayla passed Dr. Balson on the decontamination path, the rage in his eyes left no doubts about his feelings. “When you kill him, I’m going to speak at your malpractice trial. Manslaughter trial.” 

 

“See ya there,” Kayla said, her smile twitching. Even she knew that’s where this was going. Shaking with fear, not even trying to control the tears hot on her face, she stepped into Duo’s personal surgical podium, activating his suite. More like a mech cockpit than standard surgical gear. The entire suite reconfigured as if it were Duo conducting rather than Balson. Her own connections to the network were different than Duo’s, but the feed hit her, connecting in through the vestibulocochlear and frontal nerve pairs. 

 

Duo’s patterns washed over her, washed through her. Everything he knew, knew her.  It felt like he stood right behind her, his arms were around hers, as if they moved together.  It was his thought, but her voice that said, “Hey! Mousetrap! Is it okay if we put you back together?”

 

On the table, his body lost to him, his mind in fragments, he felt the surgical connection to the network strengthen again, which brought him calm.  It wasn’t rational and he didn’t fully understand. “I consent. Help me!”

 

“I’m here,” Kayla promised, meaning her words with every cell of her body. “I can do this. Trust me.” 

 

“Trust you,” Duo emoted into their shared connection. 

 

Even as he relaxed, letting his conscious mind slip into induced coma, she felt the rising pressure of a storm she didn’t understand. Where the presence behind her, guiding her, had been Duo, her close friend since medical school, the presence turned colder, sharper, when there should have been no mirror presence at all, with Duo fully anesthetized. 

 

It was all in her mind. Yup. Totally. She drew up a control panel for her own neurological function and dialed back her fear response. The threat seemed to fade away, leaving her warm and comfortable, confident.  She drew up a display of Duo’s body, focused in on the known injury, but the computer kept expanding the scope. After the second expansion, she let it and the system highlighted his whole spine. 

 

There was no dialing back the surprise. Hands moving as if she were conducting a slow-motion symphony, she pulled the representation of his spine apart.  To start with, he had 36 vertebrae, one of which was a completely artificial implant. The idea to study mutations in space born children went into surgical notes. Twelve of the natural vertebrae had damage of some kind, compression fractures, flexion-distraction fractures, and breaks she didn’t even know how to label. With a sense of dread, she expanded one section that very clearly looked like a torsion fracture, but how could anyone survive that? 

 

The breath at her ear felt beyond real, warm, so close she could almost feel lips brushing against her. “It’s been a rough ride.”

 

Kayla froze. Occasionally, a surgeon could go quite mad when using someone else’s rig. 

 

“Don’t worry,” the voice said in her other ear. “I’m not Duo. You’re not insane.” 

 

“Who are you?” The system was breached? She’d lose Duo if the repairs were not made. 

 

“We’re safe, enough. You can call me Shin. That one you’re looking at. We were 6?. Do you want to see what happened that day?” 

 

Lips try, mouth turning dry with anxiety that she’d not dealt with in a decade, she shook her head. “No. I just want to repair it. Do you have information about the kind of repair that was done?”

 

Paper thin wall between their thoughts, she could almost feel his teeth grinding. Rage sparkled in his essence, whispering at some deep darkness that went beyond what she could fathom. “You don’t want to see?” It was an invitation, a threat. 

 

“I am your friend,” she said firmly, drawing the edges of her own boundaries. “I am your doctor. Do not take your vengeance on me.” 

 

It wasn’t audible, but the hiss went down her spine and she knew she’d never unhear it. 

 

Okay. There wasn’t anything here she couldn’t fix. They had better technology now.  It didn’t matter where the wounds came from. She was just going to repair them. 

 

And while she was at it, she removed all the questionable bonding his vertebrae, replaced it all with his own stem cells on fast set. 

 

She also knew Duo well enough to know that Shin was lying when he said he wasn’t Duo. He was and and he never really managed to shut the hell up, even if she managed to have him on mute most of the time. 

 

While the most recent fracture was set completely by the time she got to the torsion fracture, which she honestly wasn’t sure she was competent to deal with, but she didn’t think she could leave it. It wasn’t exactly causing compression, but there was some minor inflamation in that region of the spine. In the post-surgical recovery period, some minor swelling would be anticipated, but with what was there already, it could be problematic. Controlling a swarm of atomic-sized drones, she began replacing the older and most questionable bonding material, the rough osseous tissue that was likely causing the inflammation. 

 

“When he got that he screamed and cried like a puppy at Yulin watching his mama go first,” Shin purred. 

 

“That’s it,” Kayla snapped. “Shut the fuck up or I will find your pattern in his brain and fucking excise you!” 

 

“Excise this.” 

 

Her reality shifted from the surgical suite to a room, yellowed walls, acidic air that she knew with new understanding that this was what pre-war L2 smelled like away from the air filtration in the posh areas.  She was small, hungry, hands on the rough carpet. Other people, bigger, dangerous, but with food, were everywhere. Kayla could see the scene. A very small Duo, tangled brown hair, grey shirt, bare feet, seemed more like a small scavenger than a person.  The instinct that he wasn’t quite the humanity she understood echoed in her. The adults showed no concern and little awareness of him or the other children in the room. It was maybe a hotel room or an apartment. Either way, it was a space that should have been condemned. 

 

The intensity of feeling both her own perception and Duo’s perception mixing into hers exploded as the door to the squalid place broke open and new figures rushed in. Big, covered in armor. Police. Monsters. 

 

The break sent Kayla back into her own mind, heart racing so hard that surgical suite was acting on its own to calm her.  Now she wanted to run back into the scene, back in time. The adults scattered. One of the cops grabbed a child and threw it against the wall. Duo ran at the armored threat and was grabbed by the neck. 

 

Kayla screamed, putting her body short of air in the suite. She had lost all alignment and reached out towards the fading memory. Another of the armored people grabbed Duo’s barefoot and jerked around like he was a hand crank, while jeering, “Ferati!” 

The scene went utterly blank, leaving Kayla suddenly staring at the torsion fracture in Duo’s spine, now almost completely healed by the suite that had continued its work. 

 

“What was that,” she sobbed, head throbbing. 

 

“My birthday,” Shin purred, then in a deep voice, slow, he started to sing ‘Happy Birthday’. 

  
  
[Shini singing Happy Birthday](https://soundcloud.com/j-duo-maxwell/tv-bd2)


	8. Pi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sequential at all ... more like an intermission... Duo's Sick. Heero's awesome.

Terminal Velocity: Pi  
by Duointherain

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. 

Notes: Sequential order? >< Last chapter, Duo was recovering from a broken back, Heero dying from malicious tech... that’s still happening. This is just some kind of intermission. 

 

 

Duo stared at his reflection in the mirror. Nose red, face felt swollen, throat felt like a toxic waste dump site, and he glared at his reflection. “HEEERO!” 

Heero, who was still straightening his tie, paused in front of the bathroom door, an eyebrow arching. “I’ll call and let them know you’re not coming.” 

“Ats stupid,” Duo said, sucking snot back into his throat, then spitting into the sink. “Imfine.” 

Heero straightened his tie, blue eyes giving Duo another one over. “You’re sick. Is this why you didn’t get home till after midnight last night?”

Duo spit again, considered gargling with warm water. “Singh called out. I was delivering a surprise baby. It’s okay. I’m okay. The filters will knock back the viral load. I’ll feel fine when I get there.” 

Nose wrinkling, Heero kissed his teeth. “But that’s temporary. It doesn’t make you ... you know.. not sick. I think,” Heero said as he gestured with his wrist, bringing up a screen to float above his hand, showing him relevant search results found by his AI. “That it actually makes you sicker, as the viral load rebounds. Why are you still wearing scrubs?”

“Uh, they clean,” Duo said, sinking down to the toilet, legs spread, arms flopping down like he was a deflated doll. “I, uh, yeah, I puked on my street clothes. So. If I don’t go to work, I’m gonna keep feeling like shit. Don’t you go some fancy shit lecture to give today, to like... university of fuckshit or something?”

“Yes,” Heero agreed as he touched his thumb to Duo’s forehead, letting his own system display Duo’s temperature. “You have a fever of 103 degrees. There are psychological components to wellness that you are ignoring.” 

“Ima trauma surgeon,” Duo groaned. “If I can’t cut it out, it ain’t really a problem.”

“Yes, Hello?” Heero said, connecting the call to Duo’s boss. “Oh I do agree. Yes, of course. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”  
“Asshole,” Duo howled, attempting to stand up, to be loud enough that his boss could hear him. “I’m fine! I’m coming to work! I got shit ta do!”

Heero let him rant, standing in just the right place to catch him when he fell. Since his illness, Heero had grown stronger and healthier. Holding Duo like his bride required no effort “I think you’ve lost weight. How long have you been sick?”

“Not sick,” Duo whined, but he wasn’t struggling to get away. His fingers slipped into Heero’s hair, neatly trimmed and soft, warm. “You’re my big fuzzy doggo.” 

“Not sick, my fucking ass,” Heero said, carrying Duo to the VR room in their house. “Galen, run program ‘Call of Duty: Alps’, but us at the chalet, zero target spawning.” 

“But shooting things,” Duo whined, legitimately whining now as Heero carried him into the cool snow laced air. “I like shooting things.” 

“And when you feel better, we’ll take on the whole NAZI army.” 

“Promise,” Duo said, clinging to Heero’s shoulders. 

“Promise,” Heero said, carrying him into the warm firelit cabin. “We’ll shoot all the things.” 

The inside of the cabin smelled of warm bread and chicken soup. There was a thick warm blanket already in a chair, so Heero set Duo down in it, pulled it up around him. “Kick your shoes off.” 

“Why are you nice to me?” Duo asked, voice tangled and swollen as he struggled to get his shoes off. 

“Because I love you.” Heero kissed cool lips to Duo’s burning forehead. “I love you because you fascinate me, have never let me down, are the best person to argue with, and being near you fills me with joy.” 

Duo coughed, violet eyes staring up at Heero. “You got a nice cock.” 

“I’m very glad you think so,” Heero said with a wink. 

A moment later, he returned with a loaf of warm buttered bread, a thick wooden bowl of soup. He pulled up a chair next to Duo, dipped a spoon into the thick creamy soup, handmade noodles, rough cut carrots. “Hungry?”

“Not hungry,” Duo said, fearing his stomach might rebel seriously if encumbered with food. 

Heero blew on the steaming spoon of soup, then held it out to Duo, expecting him to open his mouth. 

Blue eyes and violet eyes locked in a contest of wills. Duo opened up. It was roasted chicken, just enough to have good texture. Rosemary and basil, and just enough salt, with a hint of white wine, and Duo was reaching out for the spoon. “Okay. A little hungry.” 

“Good,” Heero said, tearing off a bit of warm buttery bread and dipping it into the soup before attempting to eat it. 

Duo’s hand snatched out and the bread disappeared into his mouth. Still hunched over, nose read, bloated and miserable, he groaned, “Get yer own.”

Smiling, Heero did just that, still sitting close though. “Would you like to hear stories about World War I? Or perhaps the Punic Wars?”

“No, no,” Duo said, blowing his nose on something he’d had in his pocket. “Tell me about the Grouchy hardradad.”

Heero blinked, intentionally took another bite of bread. “Do you mean the Cauchy-Hadamard formula?”

“Yeah,” Duo said, sinking into the chair, “Yeah. Maths.” 

“Right,” Heero said, moving to scoop Duo back up in his arms. The blanket fell away as he carried him to the bath, which had a swirling pool and a waterfall. Instead of talking about radius and convergence though, Heero started reciting pi, slowly, with as much emotion as he could, comforting and gentle. He let Duo half float in the warm swirling water as he stripped him down, washed him off, massaging shoulders, legs, temples, all the while, just going on in the most loving tone he could. Pi was endless and so was his love. 

Duo was barely awake when he carried him up out of the bath, wrapped him in a great furry blanket and carried him to the bed. There he lay next to him, gently stroking his temples, petting the tension from his face. 

“I love math,” Duo purred, more asleep than not.

“No, you don’t,” Heero said, rubbing Duo’s chest. 

“I love it when you talk about it,” Duo said, snuggling close. “Never leave me?”

“I’m with you always, Duo. I love you.” 

“I’m not sick,” Duo said, last words before he drifted into a restful sleep. “I love you.” 

Heero wrapped him in his arms, holding him gently. “Sleep, love, sleep all you need.”


	9. And there was a crow...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero's POV... Corvis makes an appearance. The chapter went places I completely hadn't expected!

Terminal Velocity 9  
by duointherain

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing  
Note: Heero POV, Corvis is mine. He’s from Jinn and Cookies. It’s 1x2x1, 4x3x4, and 5xS  
Warning: Not safe for work

 

The day before, during his waking periods, Heero had felt shame. That was something he’d long struggled with. 

He rolled over on the hospital bed and as he did so, the confines of it felt like a prison, maybe a prison for the insane, but constraint, nonetheless. The people who loved him the most had put him in a box. To be fair, he had lost his mind. Mild-mannered and patient mathematics professor goes rogue - it was like a summer blockbuster movie. His balance was off, but that seemed normal having lost half his legs, knee down. 

War. Thoughts of war seemed like they’d been so far away. His life at the university seemed like it was frosting covering over poisonous cake, but everything had looked fine. Waiting. He’d been waiting, passing time, explaining differential equations and thinking about the free energy principle. There had clearly been a bomb waiting in his system, making his cells turn against him. Now that he had the evidence of it, he could trace the effect backwards and see the correlation with his and Duo’s fight over Duo pursuing medicine. 

He wondered how much of his life had been stolen by war and people how would do anything for war. Looking at Duo, who was fairly floating in the bed next to him, held in a very mild antigravity field and sedated beyond being able to move, so that his back would heal, he wondered how much of Duo’s life had been stolen or how he’d kept his life from being stolen. Duo had embraced the war more than Heero had, but had also embraced not war. Duo was like ... an avalanche of caring. He killed with the same passion that he saved. He played jokes, got drunk, danced on fucking rooftops, and loved Heero. 

Life is like falling and Heero could see how he’d been an avalanche too. Just doing things, saying things, like some puppet being pulled about by his heart, which hid deep inside, while saying it was driving things. Duo was more like a lava flow. He was more like an avalanche of snow, though he guessed that avalanches are always snow. Trowa would be more like mudslide, sliding in and out of form, changing how he pleased. Quatre? 

Heero wasn’t sure about Quatre. He was more like an EM blast, just clearing his way through everything, maybe. Elegant, technological, and unexpectedly deadly. Okay, Quatre was an EM blast. 

Though that didn’t answer how he was going to get his bed closer to Duo’s. Some things were definitely harder without full legs.  
All of a sudden, he was completely tired of being in bed! He was awake and he felt like he’d be awake for the rest of the year. He’d slept more in the last week than he’d slept in the wars, and that was hyperbole and he didn’t even care. 

So the pressing question became... what time was it? The clock on the wall said nearly seven am. So he rang his call bell. 

Shortly a nurse arrived. He was a new person, of average height, with fluffy red hair and violet eyes. That made Heero like him immediately. He’d never met a man with violet eyes that he hadn’t liked. Maybe it was an ethnic trait. He’d have to see about tracing the genetic line that produced violet eyes. 

“Good morning,” Heero said, cheerfully, really feeling it. The frosting was off his heart, the dead tissue all burned away. He was going to live with full will. “Are you new?”

“Yes,” the nurse said, with a beautiful, but slightly Arabic accent. “I’m Corvis.” 

The man had a lovely dark caramel skin, with vivid white swirls across his cheeks. There was a very slight scent of burned incense to him. “I’m Heero Yuy. Dr. Po said she left prosthetics for me. I want them now.” 

Corvis smiled, his head tilting back just a little, a full toothy smile, but that smile almost shimmered, as if it were an illusion. Heero’s eyes narrowed. He did an internal check to see if he were still experiencing any response to drugs. “I also want clothing. Zechs said he brought me some clothes.”

“Of course,” the nurse said, still smiling. His facial expression transformed just a little slower than normal, as if it were action he thought through, rather than a response to though. “You’re a great hero.” 

An eyebrow arched. “Why are you here?”

“Do you wish for your legs back, Professor Yuy?”

“No,” Heero said firmly. Wishes were never free and he had everything he wanted. The question about wishing for his legs made him know that even more. There was nothing he wanted that he could not get to himself and he wanted to do it himself, “but you can do your job.”

“Of course,” he said, head tilting the other direction. “You do believe people should take care of their children, right?”

“What’s your name,” Heero asked, calm, in police mode. 

“I’m still Corvis. I’ve always been Corvis. I will always be Corvis.” That said, Corvis moved to the dresser, opening the drawers one after the other to find the folded clothing that Zechs had brought. He set the pile of clothing next to Heero. 

Grey sweats, a blue shirt, and really Heero was pretty sure they were just some stuff that Zechs nicked out of the Preventer training gym. They’d work. Though he found he wanted a shower before I wanted clothes. The nurse though, he didn’t seem to fit right. Reporter maybe? Crazy person more likely. A reporter would at least try to seem normal. “Get me the prosthetics.”

“Of course,” Corvis said, leaving the room for a moment before returning with a pair of black carbon prosthetics. They were completely new, still fastened together with plastic ties, which seemed to melt under the nurse’s fingernail, which quite suddenly, and only for a moment, seemed like a twelve-centimeter long blade. He was done though, ready to just walk away. “Have a nice day.” 

That reassured Heero. Not a nurse, but not harmful. It was just crazy outside of his concern. “Get a wheelchair. I want you to help me to the shower.”

Light sparkled in those violet eyes. “So you WISH for a shower?”

Heero snickered, laughter bubbling up in him. “No, you crazy bastard. I want one and I’m going to get one. I don’t know what you’re doing in the hospital and if you don’t want me to summon security immediately, you’re going to get a wheelchair and help me out. Are we good?”

Corvis’ face twisted up, eyes narrowing, in an expression that was eerily similar to Duo. Related ethnic groups. “Why work when you can wish? I will give wish! Free!”

“I’ve had enough crazy for one lifetime, Corvis. I,” Heero said, feeling the edge of his being in a new way, a new being, “I’m happy. I want a shower, then I’m going to curl up in bed with my husband and sleep some more. And you, I really think you should see someone here in the hospital. Did you get out of the restricted ward?”

That pushed some buttons. Corvis might be wearing scrubs and clunky white shoes, but he stood up like a legendary hero, chin lifted, nose pinched. “I am an immortal jinn, created from smokeless fire, having walked this Earth since the Lord God created it! I have come here to give you wishes because Nadir loves you!” 

Crazy. Heero kept his face very calm. This is what you get when you hang out in the hospital too long. “If I make a wish, you’ll be happy and you’ll go back where you belong?”

“Three,” Corvis said, heart beating faster, pupils dilating. “Wish.” 

“Fine. I wish that Duo heals completely and well. I wish I could snuggle with him and we could sleep together happily. And,” Heero paused, scratched his head, “And I wish all student debt was forgiven.”  
The first two got nods, a look of great joy on the man’s face, and Heero wasn’t sure, but he thought the white swirls were moving over his skin. He also was pretty sure the tips of the man’s dreadlocks were smoking, giving off sparks. “That’s what you wish for? Student debt?” 

“I understand it’ll take some time,” Heero said, kindly. “But in the meantime, help me take a shower?”

With drama and flare, the man threw his hand up, fingers poised. “Work is for mortals. It is as you command. I am a wizard as well. I’m not satisfied with your wishes.”

Heero felt his breath leave him, a powerful percussion to his chest. For at least a couple seconds he felt like he was folded like origami, but without any means to scream. 

The man reached his arms out to the sides, spreading wide. They transitioned to wings with a fluidity that made Heero’s mathematical brain start calculating fractals while still imploding on itself. That he was moving backwards, without any effort on his on his own didn’t help the implosion. 

His backward trajectory took him to Duo’s bed, lifted him in the air as if the anti-gravity field had gone insane with him, spun him around like a chicken on a rotisserie, then set him down in the same field as Duo, gentle as a feather slowly drifting down. Too stunned to do anything other than stare at the black crow hoping on his hips, he concluded that he had been entirely wrong about that no drugs in his system conclusion. He was stoned. So stoned. 

The crow drew a blanket up over them both and as much as a crow could seemed to make a face at him before bouncing into the air and flying away. It was a dream, but it was okay, good dreams were worth everything. He rolled over and pulled Duo into his arms. Already less drugged than he expected him to be, Duo snuggled back, murmuring contently. “Heero. Hold me.” 

Heero smiled. It didn’t matter if it was a dream! This was the meaning of life. “Always. I love you. I’m so sorry for being crazy.” 

Duo hooked a leg around Heero’s leg, pulling it between his. His leg was back because it was a dream, obviously. So it was okay. “You’re fine.” 

And he was. People aren’t perfect. Things get fucked up. Things get fixed. “How do you feel?”

“Never felt better, just sleepy. Sleep, just a little bit?”

“Yeah,” Heero said, feeling so happy, like his heart could paint fractal flowers on its own. “With you.” 

 

<><>  
Sally scanned the readings again. 

“What is it?” Wufei asked. He wasn’t ready to return to duty by any means, but he could sit comfortably in her office and work on his paper work. There was always paperwork.

Her fingers stirred the data, pulling new reports. “Wufei.”

“Um,” he looked up, glasses slipping down his nose. “What is it? Did one of them die?”

“No.” She drew an image of them in bed together, expanded it.

“No, no, no,” Wufei said, averting his eyes. “I don’t want to see that. They are my friends.”

Sally rolled her eyes, zoomed into where Heero’s legs were clearly under the blanket. “Heero grew his legs back.” 

“No.” Wufei scooted closer, pushing his glasses up, staring at the image, as data, hers and things that he could get from the Preventer’s stream flowed over his glasses. “That’s unusual.” 

Sally leaned back in her chair. “We’re going to have to do more research on those bots Heero had in him.” 

“No,” Wufei said softly. “We need to keep this quiet. Heero has spent too much of his life in a lab. Let’s get Winner to transfer them. Lose some of the records. You can work with Heero privately, but I don’t want this public.” 

They stared at each other, measuring each other’s commitment. “Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s make this happen.”


End file.
